A Time Before
by writeroneday
Summary: What really happened to Cara Stanton, only Reese really knows. This was written before 4-26-12 I also refer to some events that happened in Another Number in this story, You might want to read that before this one.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Person of Interest, or get any money for writing this. Please read and review thank you ._

"_John, you have to do it…it's going to be the only way." Her long dark hair fell across her face as she lowered her head into her hands. Shaking her head she straightened back up and looked across the room at him. He stood there like a statue, a mixture of trust, grief and devastation showing in his eyes._

"_Cara, there has to be another way…we can retire." His soft, raspy voice was just above a whisper. John looked into her dark haunted eyes. He didn't show it, but it tore him up inside to see her this way. His green eyes stared at her intensely, his face was pinched looking._

_She smiled at him. John, ever the idealist… "John, people in our line of work, like you and I don't retire…" She got off the bed, came to her feet and walked toward him. "We get retired; with a bullet…I'd sooner have it be yours than Mark's." She stopped in front of him, her left hand going to the side of his head, stroking his hair back in place. "All the signs are there. This last mission that was blown, it wasn't us…There was a leak and we almost didn't make it out. I think it was planned that way, us not making it. If it hadn't been for you at the last minute, unexplainably changing cars…it would have been us in that car that blew up." She wrapped her fingers behind his neck and leaned into his chest, leaving his right side free. "I don't want to die that way." She said it against his smooth skin. His shirt was half buttoned._

_He leaned his head down and rested his chin on top of her head. She was almost too tall for him, but she had huddled against his chest. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. He felt her right hand go around his waist. "There has to be another way." He whispered it to the room, closing his eyes as his right hand reached around to his right hip, almost to the small of his back, and pulled his gun out._

"_No John…this is the only way…I can't live like this anymore. You're the only one I trust…you have to do it."_

_John felt the tears form behind closed eyelids. "I don't want to." he spoke between clenched teeth._

"_I know, but you will do it for me…" She hugged him tighter. "Do it John, for me...for me."_

"_Yes…for you…" He pulled the trigger._

It was the clap of loud thunder that brought him out of the nightmare. He sat bolt upright in bed, his gun clenched in his right hand. Sweat rolled off his face and bare chest. He instantly got to his socked feet as lightning streaked across the window in the distance and another loud clap of thunder shook the hotel room. He moved over to the bathroom, not turning on the light. He set the gun down on the edge of the sink and ran water until it was cool and then splashed it across his face and upper torso.

He braced his arms against the sink, looking at himself in the darkness of the mirror. His features flashed as another bolt of lightning lit up the outside. His green eyes were haunted. He lowered his head between his shoulders; blinking back the tears from the memory…It didn't happen that way. He looked back up at the reflection, throwing the punch before he realized what he was doing. His fist broke the mirror into a thousand pieces. "It didn't happen that way…!" He shouted it out into the dark room.

There was a pounding on the other side of the wall… _"Great, now go back to bed you psychopath." _

He straightened up; grabbing his gun with bloody knuckles, he walked back to the bed. He found his shirt and put it on found his shoes and stepped into them. Stepping to the chair, he took his holster and clipped it onto his pants on the right hip. Grabbing his jacket, he shouldered into it as he headed for the door. He opened the door and a blast of rain pelted him. He didn't care. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled the key to the door out and threw it into the middle of the room, locking the door as he stepped out into the night.

Reaching up he turned the collar of his jacket up and proceeded down the little walkway to the alley. He slipped into the deep darkness of the night. The rain kept coming down.

POI

Harold Finch hated the rain. It made his whole body hurt. He had taken his medications and tried to sleep, but the aches and pains wouldn't let him. So he went to the computer and sat in front of it. He started to run random checks, which is what he always did at three in the morning…When he couldn't sleep. He got the checks started stood up and headed into the kitchen area. Some tea might be nice. He had a mixed tea that he had gotten from a Chinese herbalist that was to help him sleep. He might try that.

He trudged down the hallway and made a left. His eyes were looking at the floor, not where he was going, and then he let a little yelp out and staggered back a couple steps.

His eyes took in the apparition that seemed to be suddenly standing in the middle of the hallway. There was water pooling around its feet. It was tall and wet and looked like a drowned rat. "My God, Mr. Reese!" He put a hand over his heart, anger in his voice. There was just enough light to see his face. "Mr. Reese, are you alright?" He took a step closer, concern replacing the sudden fright. He could see the dark circles under Reese's eyes, the haunted look that they carried. There was tightness to his drawn lips.

"Sorry Finch…Thought you would be asleep…" He gestured with his head toward the kitchen "I was going for the mop…" He took a squishy step toward the kitchen. "Are _you _all right?"

Finch's worried look carried to his voice. "Aches and pains from the weather Mr. Reese…" He moved forward, holding up his hand. "I'll get the mop. You go get into some dry clothes."

"No!" His normally soft voice was a little loud. He moved forward a little faster. "I'll clean it up." He moved in front of Finch and into the kitchen, going to the little closet that kept their supplies, vacuum, mop and bucket.

Finch followed him into the room and watched as he brought the mop and bucket out.

He saw the bloody right hand knuckles. Concern came to his face again "John, what happened to your hand?"

Reese, getting ready to push the mop and bucket to the hallway, stopped and looked over his hand at Finch…with a raise of his eyebrow. "Bad night…" With that he pushed the bucket and mop out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Finch stood there for a long minute. "I am going to make some hot tea for the both of us…" He heard the mop moving on the floor. "When you've changed into dry clothing, it should be ready." He heard the mop hesitate.

"Thank you Harold…that would be good." Reese soft voice echoed down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

POI

They had sipped their tea in silence John didn't seem to want to talk, and Finch had his computer. They sat in a comfortable silence. Finch was amazed. John could sit so still for such a long length of time. Except for the blinking of his eyes he had remained unmoving for well over an hour. Finch had finished running the random checks just after 4:30 AM and he was going his room and try and sleep. "Good night Mr. Reese." Mr. Reese remained sitting in the spare chair.

He had been staring out the rain speckled windows and grunted. "Night Finch."

Finch woke at eight in the morning. Wandering out into the computer room he saw the chair was empty.

The first thing he did was to check the machine and saw that a Number had come up. He sat down did the research needed. It took him about a half hour to get the name, address, work address, and birth certificate for the new Number. It was now ready for Mr. Reese.

Moving rather stiffly toward the door, he stopped and listened for a long minute before knocking. The door was closed and he figured Reese had finally gone in there to sleep. "Mr. Reese?…" Finch knocked again. He wasn't sure when Reese had gone to bed. He knocked again heard no sound and slowly opened it. Looking inside, the room was empty.

He stood there looking into the empty room, worry touching his facial features. Out of nervous habit he reached up and touched his glasses. He stood staring at what looked like an unused bed. Finch sighed. Ever since John had come back from his brief little trip after the Snow/Flint incident, he had been less communicative. Finch figured just like when Reese had started to work with him, he needed to give him time. He'd been through a lot.

Turning, he shut the door and moved stiffly back toward the computer. The rain was still coming down, pelting the windows again. He glanced up at the far end of the hallway to see Mr. Reese coming around the corner, carrying a reddish box that normally would be filled with excellent pastries.

Finch saw that Reese's feet were wet but apparently he had either taken a car or found a rain coat. His clothes were dry. He had also changed clothing from last night, now wearing a pale blue shirt, dark suit jacket and dress slacks. There were dark circles under his green eyes.

"Good morning Mr. Reese." He looked expectantly at the pastry box. Limping over to the computer desk, he smiled wanly as he stepped down on his left leg only to have a pain shoot from ankle to hip.

Reese gave him a sharp look, he didn't say anything, but he had seen the pain Finch tried to hide. John walked by the desk and set the box down, turned and went back toward the kitchen.

Finch eased down in the chair and adjusted his glasses. "We have another Number." He called back over his shoulder.

Reese still silent was in the kitchen for several minutes. When he came out he was carrying two cups. One full of coffee and the other the tea that Finch liked he walked to the desk and set the cup down in front of Finch.

"Thank you John." Harold took cup and sipped at it.

Reese's green eyes were focused in on the rain still pounding on the windows, he swallowed, nodded, and turned his attention to Finch. "You're welcome Harold." His voice was soft but flat. He sipped at his coffee and moved to the slightly fractured glass board where they normally posted pictures of their new Number. He stared into nothingness.

"Tobias Walker." Finch picked up a photo and held it toward Reese.

Reese saw the movement and looked over his shoulder at Finch. He leaned over and took the photo, studied it for a long minute and then put it up on the board.

"Here is the information on Mr. Walker." Finch held up a readout and let John take it out of his hand. "I am still looking into his background."

Reese looked at the readout and tucked it into his pocket. He finished the coffee, turned and headed back toward the kitchen.

"Oh…Mr. Reese, phones …" Once every other day they tossed their disposable cells phones away and got new ones. Finch slid a cell phone toward Reese. He watched as John stopped, reached into his pocket and set the old phone he had been carrying down on the desk and picked the other one up.

Reese didn't even look at it, he knew the #1 speed dial was set to call what ever Finch's new number was, which was changed every day. He dropped the new phone into his pocket and continued toward the kitchen. "I'll call you when I have our Number in sight."

"Mr. Reese, what about the missing phone?" Finch watched as Reese stopped and turned back around to look at him. Finch had bought a couple dozen cell phones in a package buy. It was cheaper, they were disposable and he could easily manipulate anything in their system, such as tracking or numbers dialed. They had all been purchased in pairs. He had opened one box and found only one cell phone in it, the other was missing.

"I don't know Harold, what about it." There was actual anger in his voice.

"I thought maybe you had discovered it…" Finch turned around in his swivel chair and looked at John. He knew exactly where it was. He knew that John had it and for some reason was keeping it a secret.

Reese raised an eye brow; a look of annoyance touched his face. "I haven't discovered it." He turned and walked out of the room.

Finch watched him leave. He sat there for a long moment contemplating his next step. He knew that Mr. Reese had taken the missing phone, knew he had inserted a different SIM card into it and even though he kept it on and fully charged, he hadn't used it. He turned back around and let his fingers fly over the keyboard he needed to check the pairing before Reese got too far out of the building.

POI

John Reese went seven blocks out of his way. The rain coat he had found in the closet was a little oversized for him, but it had a large turn up collar that kept the rain from going down his neck. He turned up the street he was headed for and saw the young man standing waiting for him. The rain started to lessen. There was an anxious look on the boys somewhat cold and wet face. He was about four foot three and skinny as a rail. His hair was long and black and hung in his face. Reese saw the distrustful smile on his thin lips spread, but he saw something in his grey eyes that gave him hope. He actually lengthened his stride to reach the boy. "Did you get it?"

The boy looked at the tall man standing in front of him. "Yeah it came. Where is my money?" He had been meeting this man every day now for two weeks. This guy had caught him in the park, trying to lift an elderly woman's purse. After finding he couldn't get away from him, the guy asked if he wanted to earn some honest money. At first he thought the guy was a pervert but he had explained that all he had to do was once a day, go to a mail box and check and see if there was anything in it. If there was he was to bring it to him and he would receive fifty dollars. For checking every day he got ten.

Reese reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. He jerked his hand back as the boy made a grab for it. "The card, then the money." John watched as the boy pulled the card out of his back pocket and placed it in his open hand. Reese took the card and handed the boy the fifty. He shot off like a horse out of a starting gate and was gone around the other corner in ten strides. Reese didn't look at the greenish colored card. He tucked it inside his jacket, protecting it from the rain as it started back up and turning on his heel he strode with hurried purpose back to the car.

Reese couldn't wait to get to the car. He ducked into a little deli instead and walked to the back. Heading into the men's room he chose an empty stall, stepped in and shut the door. His hand was trembling as he pulled the card back out and read the first line across it that was in bold black lettering. 'Delivery confirmation, signature required.' In the TO line: Margret Bostwic, Rome Italy, Box 767. He flipped the card over and saw the signature at the bottom of the greenish colored card. Alice Fenton.

Reese felt his knees start to buckle and he sat down hard on the toilet. She was alive, the code that they had set up so long ago worked. They had worked everything out so carefully, to perfection. She was still alive.

POI


	3. Chapter 3

Reese closed his eyes and leaned down over his body. Putting his elbows on top of his thighs he put the greenish colored card to his forehead and sucked in a deep breath. The nightmares he had been having since the drug incident had been taking its toll on him. He was visibly shaking. For the first time in a very long time he thought he might throw up. He swallowed hard and tried to regain control. Worry he had been so worried.

Cara Stanton had been a very calculating agent. She was well organized, looked at every little aspect of a mission before they went in. He was the muscle. He had learned an enormous amount from her, watching her plan every little step of whatever mission they were sent on. She took time to explain what she was doing and why she was doing it. She was a very talented, organized, cold hearted killer. He put his trust and faith in her. He protected her, had her back and would have died for her, which is what he had done.

When the last mission had suddenly taken a wrong turn and it had almost ended up in them being blown to pieces, there had only been one explanation. They were marked for removal by the company.

_They had holed up for five days, remaining out of contact, especially from Mark Snow. Who Cara was sure he had set the bomb up in the car, Snow was the only other one who knew where they had parked their escape car and at the last minute, John had directed the other two agents to their escape car after seeing a Porsche sitting slightly further away. Knowing how Cara loved Porsches, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her to the car. "We'll take this one." He had said smiling. She had been so angry about what had just happened with the mission and he wanted to please her. So he was going to steal the car for her. They had gotten into the Porsche, John popped the ignition and bent over to hot wire it when the explosion had happened to the other car. He and Cara had sat in stunned silence looking at the fire bomb that erupted. There was very little left of the car or its occupants. Another Mark Snow trademark. Cara had stilled his hands on the two wires. "Lets walk," and they had left the scene._

John sucked in another trembling breath. With the nightmares he had been having he was afraid that Cara had been discovered. Before she faked her death she had set up this mail drop and he was to only use it if he thought her new life was in jeopardy. She had also set up his elaborate death, so they would both be dead.

And then his fingerprints had been taken.

Reese shook himself mentally and physically. He got to his feet and put the greenish colored card back inside the raincoat pocket. He reached a hand out to open the stall door and saw that he was still shaking. Holding the hand and arm extended for a long moment, he took a deep breath. As he expelled the breath, his hand stilled and his face took on that emotionless expression. His green eyes carried a flat look, a guarded look. He opened the stall door and walked out. His left hand went to the inside jacket pocket, his hand closed around _'the missing' _cell phone. He pulled it out and checked the charge on it. Everything was good…now if it would just ring.

POI

"Ok, Finch….I have our Number in sight" He was riding on a bus, in the back. His voice was low and soft. He smiled at a lady as she looked up at his words. Tobias was near the front. He had studied the picture of Walker. The young man was a little thinner and longer haired than the photo but it was him. Reese had one hand wrapped around a strap as the bus braked to a stop and doors opened and people got on and off. Tobias remained. Reese watched his subject as Finch spoke into his ear.

"Our Mr. Walker purchased a gun two months ago." Finch pulled the print out to him. "It looks like ten weeks ago; he had an order of protection taken out against him."

Reese had already noted that their Number had a gun. He the gun tucked in his waist band and a hoodie pulled over it. Reese had smiled when he had first spotted it. Not a good place to put a gun. Things could get blown off if he wasn't careful, especially since it was an automatic. He had also noted that Tobias was probably a tweeker, he had all the signs: facial sores, nervousness and runny nose.

"A Mira Martin had it issued against him."

Reese looked at the area the bus was traveling in. "Where does she work?" He saw the lady he had smiled at look at him again. He didn't want to bring the cell phone out because he didn't want both hands in use and he knew his voice was low enough, no one else was looking at him. He shifted slightly so he could still see Tobias but he was turned away from her.

"She works at 81st Street and Columbus Ave…At the Prime Café…She should be there now." Finch adjusted his glasses. He tapped a couple keys, bringing up the traffic camera on the corners. "Yes I see her very petite blond…a waitress"

Reese knew they were on Columbus, just passing 80th. He saw Tobias reach for the stop button. "I'll call you back." Reese reached up and touched his right ear; the ear bud was firmly planted there. He got off the bus as Tobias got off. On a scale from one to ten, Tobias was a ten on the nervous scale.

Reese closed the gap between them and shadowed him, matching him stride for stride. He glanced up as they crossed the street toward the corner café. He watched as Tobias pulled the hood up over his head and Reese closed the gap between them so he was a step behind.

There were several tables' two chairs at each, in front of the café and under a canopy. Reese watched as a pretty little blond girl stepped out. She was dressed in a waitress uniform. She delivered a tray to a table, talked for half a second, laughed, turned around and started back into the entrance of the café. He saw her eyes go wide as she recognized who was coming toward her.

John felt the coldness come over him. He knew if the girl had looked at him instead of her assailant, she'd have been more terrified at what she saw cross his face. He knew the cold, hard, malevolent smile was present. His green eyes narrowed as he focused on Tobias' hand and he saw Tobias start to reach for the gun at his waist. Reese's right hand snaked out.

Everything went into slow motion.

Stepping directly behind him, Reese grabbed the back of the hoodie making sure his hand closed over material and the hair under it. He jerked his right hand back, side stepping to the left, while his left hand reached around and grabbed the gun from Tobias' hand as it started to clear his waistband. Reese brought his left hand up, gun butt exposed directly into line with Tobias' nose, breaking it. His second hit was to the exposed throat as Tobias' head snapped back. Stepping back slightly, he let go of the hoodie and hair and slammed his right hand sideways into Tobias' jaw. He watched as would-be tough guy's head snapped around and he folded down to the sidewalk. Reese bent over, grabbed Tobias' hand and placed the gun back in it, making sure he pressed the limp hand hard enough to get good prints. He straightened and kicked the gun away.

This had all taken place in about five seconds. Reese looked across the prone body at Mira. A sardonic smile touched his face. His voice when he spoke was soft and full of concern. "Mira, Call 911…" He raised an eye brow and nodded toward the gun. "That should put him behind bars for quite awhile." He glanced at the other stunned patrons, who all seemed glued to their seats.

Reese turned and walked on down 81st street. Central Park was just a couple blocks away, a good place to get lost in…He reached up and touched the ear bud.

"I've already called the police…" Harold's excited voice spoke into his ear. "Mr. Reese, they should be coming around the corner now…" They were. He saw them speeding toward him.

Reese didn't hurry; to hurry would be to call attention to him self. He crossed the street and walked past the police cars as they turned on their lights and sirens to get through the intersection. Strolling on down toward Central Park he crossed over to the other side of the street mid-block and stopped in the recess of a building. He looked back at the scene he had just left.

He saw an officer standing with the gun in an evidence bag, another office bent over Tobias' still prone body and another officer talking to Mira who was pointing down the street, shaking her head and crying. It started to rain again.

He pulled his hands out of the raincoat pockets. Looking at his right hand before he turned up the collar, he saw that the knuckles were bleeding again. He turned and headed for Central park. In his ear he heard Finch's voice.

"We have another Number Mr. Reese."

"Of course there is." Reese turned at the corner instead of going straight. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled the _missing _cell out and checked it. At least he knew she was still alive. "I'll be there in a few minutes Mr. Finch." Maybe now the nightmares would quit

-30-


End file.
